


Hungry Like the Wolf

by Sylar (FanficbyLee)



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Gen, M/M, sylar kills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-31
Updated: 2013-07-31
Packaged: 2017-12-22 00:28:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/906757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FanficbyLee/pseuds/Sylar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Post Wall Sylar gets the munchies after a sweet breakfast with Peter in Central Park.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Hungry Like the Wolf

**Author's Note:**

> Post Wall Sylar gets the munchies after a sweet breakfast with Peter in Central Park.

Peter hadn’t noticed him—of course not—he never did, but I could taste his power every time he jogged by. I was in my favorite spot in Central Park, sipping a mocha and eating a bagel while ignoring the pigeons that were surrounding me like a school of mutant sharks, with their missing and extra toes, begging me to drop a precious piece of bread for them to fight over. I licked the cream cheese from my fingers and tossed the last scrap of it to them. I could’ve broken it up, so more of them could share, but it was more fun to watch them squabble over it. 

“You’re a dick, you know that,” Peter said. It wasn’t a question. I noticed that, but he was smiling. “One of them might lose an eye, Sylar.” 

“It’s all fun and games, Peter until someone loses and eye, and then it’s just fun.” I didn’t remember where that quote was from, but far be it from me to miss the chance to use it. 

“I gotta go to work.” He cast me a baleful look before getting up and stretching. 

He was wearing his blue EMT uniform, and he was so pretty in it. A memory, that should have been horrible, surfaced of him using a nail gun on me while wearing it, but all it did was make me wonder if we shouldn’t do some home improvement. Yeah, my evil meter was on high, really fucking high. 

“I know. Be careful. You sure you don’t want regen?” I wished he’d take it, but he preferred speed to being able to heal from anything. 

I didn’t get that, probably why I didn’t have the stupid speedster ability. Why run if you can’t be hurt? Same reason he was an EMT, and I was a serial killer. Peter liked to help people. He thought of them first. I didn’t. I never would. They thought my ability made me this way, but they’re wrong. I was born this way. Ability or not, I’d have had blood staining my hands. I’m just better at getting away with it than I would have been before. 

“I’m good. I’ll bring home dinner.” He bent over, and we shared a long sweet kiss. If there was one thing I knew for sure in my fucked up life, with my limited sanity, it was that Peter loved me, and I loved him. 

“Sounds good. I’m going to try to find a way to improve my life.” He’d think I meant going to school or finding a job. I meant that I was waiting for the guy to circle back around after he was gone, so I could kill him. It’d been three months since I’d taken a power. One major advantage of Peter only holding one at a time was that he couldn’t accidentally copy something new from me like he could before. Thanks for that, Arthur and Mohinder. Something good did come out of your existence. 

Peter stole one more kiss before he loped off. Now that Claire had told the world about us, he didn’t feel the need to go around a corner or slip into a phone booth to activate a power. It didn’t much matter. He traveled too fast for the human eye to see when he used it. 

I leaned back in the bench, stretching my legs out while I waited for him to come back. He always did. He’d been having a morning jog every other day for the past month. I hadn’t seen him use his ability. Hell, I didn’t know what it was, but I didn’t care. Right now he was a goddamn chunk of bagel with extra cream cheese, and I was the only shark in the sea. 

I tossed the dregs of my coffee into the nearest trash can and started walking toward where he’d come by. I wanted to catch him in the deeper forest on one of the trails. There were a lot of people out this time of the morning, jogging and pretending to be healthy, before they went to work in one of the towering buildings in their Armani and Brooks Bros. 

The trees grew thicker as I made my way deeper into the park. I had the collar of my coat up against the morning chill, stepping to the edge of the path when I felt some jogger breathing down my neck. It would be a challenge to get him alone, but that was OK. Hell, it was wonderful. I always preferred a challenge. 

I spotted him jogging toward me. His blond hair was sweat plastered, and he was breathing harder than he had been at the start. When he was six feet in front of me, my tongue dabbed my lower lip as I used some telekinesis to trip him. He went down hard, which was to be expected, since the path was supposed to be clear.

“Shit,” he groaned, as he clutched at his ankle. Good, that meant he didn’t have regen, because I didn’t need a kill badly enough to go for something that I already had. 

“Let me help you,” I said, crouching next to him and helping him to his feet. He was able to stand on his own, so I added some more pain and pressure to his ankle, which forced him to lean on me. No one else stopped to help him. Gotta love New York City, anywhere else someone other than me might have offered. Peter would’ve if he was here. Good thing he wasn’t. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled as I edged him off the path and into a break in the shrubs. I kept the pressure on his leg, using the pain to keep him from noticing exactly what I was doing. His hand tightened on my shoulder as I ground the bones together when he tried to step on his own. “Fuck!” 

“Don’t worry. It won’t hurt much longer.” We were far enough from the trail now, and I pushed him down onto the leaf covered ground. The earth was rich, and the air was fresh. I took a deep breath as I stood over him. He tried to scramble on his back, arms and legs digging into the soil, but I wouldn’t let him move. I pinned his torso in place like a butterfly to a board as I looked down at him. 

“I want you to know that this isn’t your fault.” I bit my lower lip as I began to swiftly cut through the thick bone of his skull. He opened his mouth to scream, but I clamped it shut with a hand as I hunkered onto my heels next to him. Hot blood sprayed from the cut as I ripped off the top of his head. His eyes threatened to pop as I reached my fingers into his cranium. “It’s all mine. You have something that I want, and there wasn’t a thing you could do to stop me.” 

He stopped fighting once I’d worked my fingers deep into his brain. His chest rose and fell with each fading breath, but he wouldn’t live much longer. I shivered and smiled when I found the sweet spot, and sat back to lick the blood from my fingers as the power clicked into place in mine. I closed my eyes, trying to access my shiny new toy while the life faded from his. He was nothing now—just a pile of meat for me to get rid of by a quick flight out over the Atlantic for a body dump. 

When I opened my eyes, I could see everything. I focused on a fallen leaf, I could trace the veins inside of it and with a little more effort, I could see the building blocks that made the leaf. Bending over the body, I could see the cerebral fluid and blood drying on his brain as it was exposed to the air as well as the beginning stages of decay. “Nice. I’ve never had this one before.” 

I hosted the body into my arms, careful to tuck the skull cap into his shirt and took off into the sky. On the way back, I’d find more things to look at with my new eyes.


End file.
